


Broken Bottles

by going_going_gone



Series: Meeting Like This [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya goes off, Bar Fight!, Blood, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hospital Visit, Injury, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 01:35:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3959500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/going_going_gone/pseuds/going_going_gone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya runs into trouble with the law when she sees Gendry Waters once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Bottles

Arya's time in King’s Landing was nothing like she’d expected. At most she’d thought she’d be looking forward to teasing her sister senseless and taking a boring tour of her father’s local offices. She’d never expected to meet someone.

Never one for romance, Arya hadn’t had many boyfriends. In fact, she’d only ever had one before. Mycah was nice, but he’d been boring, and she couldn’t waste time on someone who never seemed to want to do anything. Plus, he’d let her walk all over him.

But Gendry was, well, different. He was seemed calm, but not dull. His looks helped a lot too. Unfortunately, Sansa had rubbed off on her, so Arya hadn’t been able to simply ask him out. For one thing, her window of opportunity was gone. Instead of just being straight-forward and telling him when and where they could meet again, she’d pulled a Sansa and given him her number. That made it a waiting game- which she hated.   

Already she was impatient, and only a day had passed. Her father had given her the promised tour, and whenever she became bored out of her mind Arya found herself checking her phone looking for missed calls. It didn't matter that she hadn’t left it long enough for one to come in. She hated how eager the thought of his call made her feel, but there was no denying it.

She was perched on Sansa’s couch while she thought about it again, glaring moodily at the Kardashians, when Margaery mentioned their outing.

“What?” she asked, too sharply. Margaery sent her a startled look. “Where are you going?” she tried again, softer than before.

“This dump in Flea Bottom. Loras thought it’d be a blast,” she answered.

Sansa pulled a face. “Why would that be fun? Flea Bottom’s dangerous.”

“Don't you want to see how the other half lives?” she giggled.

“Marg, have some compassion. It’s a neighborhood, not a zoo,” Sansa scolded.

“Sounds like it could be fun,” Arya admitted. She hadn't been paying attention to their conversation. She’d been thinking about sitting at home alone for another night while Sansa got to have fun. She also wouldn't hate to see Loras Tyrell get punched in the face when he said something to the wrong person. The boy truly couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and if he called her a the “Wicked Bitch of the North” to her face once more, she was tempted to hit him herself.

“Who’s going?” Sansa asked.

“Loras, Renly, Joffrey, Merry…” As Margaery began rattling off names, Arya mulled it over in her head. She didn’t want to go out with them, but she’d have a hard time explaining to her father why she was out alone if Sansa came home without her. They had lunch plans with him and Arya would never be able to find a ride in the busy city. She was a northern girl through and through.

“Can I go?”

“You want to?” Sansa exclaimed.

“Well, yeah,” she replied.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I don’t want to stay in the apartment for the rest of my visit,” she snapped. “Besides, I don’t mind dive bars.”

“Of course you don’t” Sansa said.

“What’s it called?” she asked

“Uh…” Margaery thought for a moment, wrinkling her nose with the effort of remembering. “The Hanged Man? Loras told me, but I can’t remember.”

“Arya, if you get into trouble, don’t expect me to save you,” Sansa warned. Arya delighted in miffing her sister and making her pout.

“I’ll be a perfect lady.”

“That’ll happen when the seven hells freeze over,” she snapped.

***

In the end, Sansa could say nothing to scare Arya off from the trip. Not even the constant reminder that two of her least favorite people in Westeros were going to be to with them could make her stay home.

Margaery and Sansa crowded into the bathroom and Arya into Sansa’s room, She grabbed her backpack from it’s place next to the door and slung it onto the bed. Arya already knew she hadn’t packed anything for going out, but it was just a dive bar, and unless Sansa had anything to say, Arya was sticking to her usual wardrobe.

She was out in less than two minutes, and hurried to the bathroom door before Sansa could bar her entry. Margaery stood in front of the mirror, mouth open slightly as she carefully applied a little liner to her lower lid. Sansa was crouched over a compact, lining her lips. With a snort, Arya took her own place at the mirror. With an air of carelessness Arya only ever displayed in front of her sister, she took a comb to her short hair. A few pieces in the back wouldn't lay flat, and when brute force didn’t produce the results she would have liked, she shrugged.

“Are you wearing that?” Sansa asked disdainfully. Of course. Arya looked down at the worn looking jeans and the plain t-shirt. She couldn't parse out what Sansa could find wrong with it.

“No. You’re hallucinating.”

“Oh, Sansa, it’s not like we’re going anywhere nice,” Margaery rushed to calm the elder Stark girl. She patted Sansa’s arm absentmindedly before returning to her make up.

“Fine,” she said, snapping her hand out and grabbing a tube of lipstick. When she pulled off the lid, it was revealed in all it’s blood red glory. “Mother and Crone! I grabbed the wrong color.”

“I have yours,” Margaery told her, smiling. She already had the replacement in her hand.

Feeling disgruntled and a little unsettled by how in-sync her sister and Margaery were, Arya stomped off to wait in the living room.

Joffrey Baratheon seemed to take up more space than he should. Everything he did called for attention, and Arya felt like robbing him of it. When Sansa and Margaery rushed out of the bathroom to greet their friends Arya bristled at the way he touched her sister. They were in a room filled with people and he couldn't seem to keep his hands away from her arse.

Merry Crane, Margaery’s cousin, Renly Baratheon, Joffrey’s Uncle and Margaery’s boyfriend, and Loras Tyrell, Margaery’s brother- all piled in right after him. These were the people Sansa surrounded herself in the south. They made Arya appreciate the lukewarm bitchiness of Jeyne Poole. Other than Margaery, who Arya found she could actually tolerate, and Renly, who was funny enough, she couldn’t stand her sister’s southern companions.

“Arya’s decided to come along,” Margaery announced, smiling brightly. At least she was pretending it was a fantastic development.

Joffrey pulled a face.”Why?” he asked. He looked like he’s smelled something quite disgusting. She wondered if he wasn’t immune to his cologne.

“Because she wants to?” Renly suggested. Arya smiled. “That’s just a wild guess, though. Don’t take my word for it.”

Joffrey didn’t seem to think his uncle was very funny, but didn’t bother replying.

“We should go!” Margaery exclaimed, hands fluttering around her shoulders. “We wouldn’t want to get there just as everyone else does. I’d like a corner booth.”

“I doubt they make reservations,” Loras replied, though no one seemed to object.

Renly was the first one out the door and Arya, uncomfortable under Joffrey’s irritated stare, was quick to follow. When he got to the sidewalk outside Sansa’s apartment Renly dug around inside his pockets, looking for something.He took some time, and by the time he’d triumphantly pulled a pair of keys out of his jeans everyone was crowded under the night sky. Merry’s dress didn’t reach mid-thigh and she was shivering. Arya almost offered her her own jacket, but she was cold too, so she left it alone.

Renly pressed a button on the fob and his Royce’s headlights cut across the street.

“And how will we all fit in there?” she asked.

“You could get in the trunk?” Joffrey suggested coldly.

“I’ll sit on Loras’s lap,” Margaery said.”And Sansa on Joff’s. It won’t be too snug.”

Lapsitting was hardly necessary, Arya saw. She, Merry, Loras and Margaery all fit in the back, though uncomfortably, but Joffrey insisted Sansa follow through on Margaery’s idea, and they sat in the passenger seat.

“Where is this place?”

“Flea Bottom,” Loras answered simply. The smile he tossed his sister explained it as a jape. Sansa rolled her eyes in the mirror.

Margaery jumped to explain further. “It’s on Wren Lane. Close to the DragonPit.”

Arya had no idea what any of that meant.

The rest of the ride was a long and loud one. Sansa and Margaery lived near the Sept of Baelor, which wasn’t exactly near Fleabottom, and Arya suspected Merry had already gotten a jump on her blood alcohol level, because no sober person could giggle that much.

When they found the tavern, a ramshackle affair surrounded by motorcycles, even Arya was a little intimidated by it. The Hanged Man, the sign said, the words emblazoned above a ghastly silhouette of the bar's namesake. When the sign moved it looked like the corpse was swaying.

“This place looks awful!” Sansa exclaimed. She looked absolutely scandalized, and it spurred Arya out of the car. Joffrey, Renly and Loras wouldn't be out done by Sansa’s kid sister, and so they were out soon after. That left the girls to follow after all in a huddle, so that when Arya burst through the flimsy plywood door of the Hanged Man, she was basically alone. The barful of muscled giants turned to look at the skinny tomboyish eighteen year old for only a second before turning back to their drinks. She released a relieved breath and stepped forward to allow Sansa and her friends in.

Now- they received more attention. If they couldn't recognize the twenty-somethings as the tabloid fodder they were the men could at least see that they all had money. Hell, Margaery’s necklace probably cost more than the bar.

Not noticing the sudden silence in the bar, Joffrey strode further into the room, shoving Arya away carelessly in search for a corner booth, as Margaery had requested. Finding what he was looking for at the back, on the opposite end of the bar and closest to the bathrooms, he headed straight for it.

Arya slunk forward, allowing everyone else to pile into the booth before she perched beside Sansa. She had a horrible feeling about this. They were getting an awful lot of glares. She wanted to be able to run at a moment’s notice. That or jump up and hit someone.

“It looks even worse on the inside,” Joffrey commented, not even bothering to lower his voice.

“I don't know,” Renly countered.”I think it’s rather charming. It’s the dried blood that really ties the decor together.”

“Maybe you two should shut it,” Arya advised.”Unless you think your blood might freshen the place up.”

“Why’d we bring her, again?” Joffrey snapped. He didn't like her around to ruin his night, and she was just glad her presence was bothering her sister’s boyfriend.

“What do you want to drink?” a soft voice asked. Arya turned. It was a fairly chubby boy with a mucky apron and a nervous expression.

“Can I get a Manhattan?” Renly asked, smiling slyly. With a disgruntled look from the chubby boy, he changed his order quickly, “Just a joke, my man. I’m this lots driver tonight.”

Loras and Joffrey both asked for over-priced imported beer that they didn't have and got local brew instead, Merry ordered three shots of tequila, and Sansa ordered a white wine. Margaery asked for a vodka and cranberry and was cheerfully told they could do that. Arya ordered a beer. “Whatever they're getting,” she clarified pointing a finger at Joffrey.

While the others stared at the other patrons and acted like animals Arya ran her eyes over the room at large. There was exit next to the bathroom as well as the entrance they’d come through, and a door behind the bar.

As she was staring hard at the entrance and trying to ignore the movement of feet next to hers and also trying not to guess who it was, a familiar and welcome face appeared.

Gendry entered the bar like he was there all the time, and she guessed that it wasn’t far from true. She’d pegged him as a Flea Bottom boy as soon as she met him. Not that there was anything wrong with that.

Welcome though he may be, Arya ducked her head. She did not want Gendry and Joffrey anywhere near each other. She wouldn’t let the blonde goblin ruin what she may or may not soon have with Gendry.

Just then, their drinks arrived, and she let herself get drawn away from the black haired boy in favor of her beer bottle. She took a long pull and when she swallowed and glanced at her table Merry was already on her final shot.

They were a mess. Merry looked ready to slump over, and after her second shot Sansa was so foregone Arya was little embarrassed. She could have guessed Sansa was a lightweight, but guessing was different than seeing. The only people not completely plastered were she and Renly, and if she had another beer she might leave him behind in the land of the sober. They were getting rowdier and rowdier, and even Renly was looking increasingly worried. Arya couldn't see a problem. The patrons weren’t nearly as angry as they had been before, were they?

All she knew was that Gendry was staring at her, and she was rather good at not meeting his eyes. It wasn’t that she didn't want to talk to Gendry- she _really_ wanted to talk to Gendry, in fact she wanted to do much more than Gendry, she wanted Gendry to bend her over a table and- but she didn't want him to know just what type her sister was friends with. She didn't realize that he could hear exactly what type they were.

She turned to say something to Sansa and was met with something that would have given her a heart attack if she wasn't on her ninth beer. Sansa looked like she was connected to Margaery permanently, as if their lips were locked together. Squinting as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was seeing was real, Arya leaned forward.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, but I like it,” Joffrey proclaimed. Arya shot him a glare and reached out to grab Sansa’s shoulder.

“Oi, don’t ruin the show!” a voice boomed from the next table over. She turned, snarling, and was greeted with what might have been the largest man ever.

“Shut up!” she snapped, turning back to her sister. A huge paw landed on her shoulder and she was whipped around.

“Excuse me girl?”

Immediately her table erupted with protests. Joffrey shouted something to the effect of “don’t you know who you’re assaulting?” and Margaery yanked Sansa away from her. Renly stood up with his hands out to pacify the giant and Merry burst into tears.

Shrieking indignantly, Arya tried to shove the man off. Unfortunately, his hands were like boulders, and all it seemed to do was piss him off.  

“Maybe I should teach you to keep your mouth shut?” he growled lowering his face until only inches separate them.

“Maybe I should teach you to keep your hands to yourself?” she hissed, struggling once again.

Suddenly, something made him turn his back, lifting her slightly off the ground so she couldn't wriggle away.

“What the fuck do you want?” the giant barked. A sound like skin hitting skin rung through the bar and her table fell silent.

Suddenly free Arya fell to the ground with an oomph and sprung up, ready to start swinging.

Gendry stood in front of the mountain of a man fists up, and the giant looked down at him in confusion. With a shrug and a grin tossed over his shoulder, he swung another fist and hit his opponent on the other side of his face.  

Arya, not to be outdone, jumped as high as she could and wrapped her arms and legs around the mountain man. He stumbled but it didn't stop him from getting Gendry in the shoulder with a heavy blow. The trio stumbled toward the bathroom and Arya got to watch as the tall stranger’s  drinking buddy dragged Joffrey out of the booth by his shirt and Renly hit him over the head with one of her beer bottles.

Gendry kept hitting the mountain and Arya tightened her grip around his thick, muscled neck, but he gave as good as he got. Even as he was blackening Gendry’s eyes he’d rammed his back into the wall. The breath left her lungs and she barely managed to keep hold of him.

Everyone erupted in violence and noise and suddenly the bar was like a war zone. Glass shattered and wood broke and Gendry was getting steadily bloodier.

“Are you alright?’ he yelled over the curses and the yells.

“Just great!” she replied raggedly, holding on for dear life while the giant shook her like a ragdoll.

A roar ran through the air and suddenly red hair whipped into Arya’s face and Sansa was smashing a glass pitcher over the mountain man’s head. With a whush and a groan he fell to the ground, and Gendry just barely escaped the man’s falling body.

Arya wrapped her arms around her sister’s neck, laughing hysterically. “Look at you!” she exclaimed.”You fight like a true Northerner!”

Sansa returned her laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“We probably shouldn’t stay-” Gendry began, but just as she grabbed both of their hands, Sansa’s small and sweaty, Gendry’s large and warm, sirens snapped the brawlers to attention.

A mass exodus towards the back door swamped the three in limbs and Arya caught sight of Renly herding Sansa’s friends out the back door.

“Renly!” she shouted, but he couldn’t hear her over the din.

Sansa tugged at her hand. “Arya, let go! I see Marg!”

“We need to stay together!”

But Sansa was already gone, swept towards the bar, and the KLPD was busting through the front door.

Gendry and Arya didn’t release each other’s hands until the cuffs were slapped on, and then they were both shoved into the same squad car. She’d spotted Sansa before the door closed, and she felt horrible for getting her sister in trouble. Sansa didn’t do anything bad, _ever_. She couldn’t even imagine how Catelyn would react.

“We’re taking you to the hospital and then you’re being booked!” the officer snapped from the front.

She turned to look at Gendry, taking in his bruised face and bleeding nose.

“You look awful,” she told him honestly.

“And you’re extremely drunk. Is this going to be happening a lot?”

Before she could answer, the officer ordered them both to stay silent.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The name of the pub is a reference to Dragon Age II.  
> Hope you enjoyed it, and I promise to continue this thrilling saga.


End file.
